What, you could be wondering, oh what on earth could have kept this “avid blogger” from posting in the past 2.5 months or so, you ask? Could it have been lack of internet access perhaps? Or nobody to hold her hand and guide her towards the laptop? Was it an emergency? Did her house burn down?
Wrong, wrong wrong. You have it all wrong. It was indeed a sheer lack of motivation, inspiration and oh, did I mention lack of motivation? Looks like the whole life-reset-Ctrl + F-lifestyle change *did* lead to one spectacular discovery – that of the wonders of utter laziness and thus, lack of motivation.
And one other, that is. Sheer presence of boredom can make you do amazing things. Case in point, writing this post!
Alright, enough rambling. So the vegan stint went pretty well – in a classic example of “compare and contrast”, the two months post-veganism were anti-vegan in the very true sense of the concept: beef burgers, hot dogs, tiger shrimps, roast chicken, lamb shawarmas…you name it, and consumed it was. And well, it did quite a number on my insides and outsides, leading me to the conclusion that veganism, despite not making it to my lifestyle options list in this particular life, is a very healthy choice indeed and can revitalize you to no end.
In the recent hiatus, there were of course, several culinary experiments, most of which will be shared with you over the next few posts. There was the trip to New York City, during which we lost the Statue of Liberty. Not to say that we ever owned it in the first place, or that it was really lost. But, we could just not find it. There was also the case of the missing Big Apple. And despite the fact that we did not own this monument either, it really was missing. As of several months. Too bad I missed that headline before planning an elaborate visit to the site. Then of course, there was the house guest, who reminded me that, while we certainly cannot choose the families we are born in to, we can definitely choose the kind of family we would like our families to be. Hands down, I choose my kind of family; the one you can rely on, the one you would do anything for and the one who will learn to love you, just as you have learned to love them: irrationally and limitlessly. (I just created a new word!)
But for now, the occurrence I have most itched to write about, was the reappearance of an old friend. Now, let’s not confuse, we’ve all had this friend once. We can choose when we want keep this friend and when we want the friend disposed off. It’s a bit of a love-hate relationship with this friend. Said friend can betray when you least expect it, leaving you scarred (sometimes permanently). But this friend can also teach you a great deal about the most important characteristic known to mankind : trust. And trusting this friend, as well as yourself, can take you a great distance.
My old friend, a darling bicycle, came back into my life last month. Well, it wasn’t the same red BMX I’d owned as a child, so technically, it didn’t really come back. But my relationship with it certainly came back. And all that crap they say about “oh, it’s just like learning how to ride a bike, you never forget it” – is really crap. You forget alright. You have to fall over and get up and fall over and get up before it comes back. At which point, I really wonder, does it ever come back, or do we just learn it as a brand new skill all over again? That’s a whole other discussion.
Revisiting this skill after 15 years was as petrifying as that first ill-fated journey on said red BMX. It mocked me then, and it mocked me now. “Haha!”, it said, “watch me tip you over!” There I was on the pavement, bruised and bleeding, while it glared back at me with its shiny…glare. Back then, my ever so patient grandfather (bless his soul) chaperoned me quietly through the blood, sweat and tears. He stayed with me as long as I needed before I took that first trip around the neighbourhood all by myself. Truth be told, this time around, I felt very lost without him. All those memories came rushing back. The first few rounds were awkward with a pinch of embarrassing. (please note, there were no falls, just many near-tumbles)
But I persevered now as I did back then, with the help of my sister, and indeed, by the end of my 4th round, this trusty old friend did take me a great distance. This time, it wasn’t the piercing wind or those pavement injuries that made me tear up – it was that image of my smiling grandfather, arms wide open, waiting at the other end of the block for me.
And that, my dear readers, is an image no number of years can fade away. This one’s for my loving grandparents who may have passed, but will always be alive in my heart.
